Our House
by LECandeh
Summary: After House faints in an elevator, it's up to his team to diagnose him. However, House is in a world of his own. Huddy. Hameron. ChasexCameron, ForemanxCameron.
1. Chapter 1

**Candice – **Yes, this is my account for posting House FF. I have my other account for my Danny Phantom FF, but after reading all of these brilliant House FF's, I was just hypnotized to write at least one and see how you all would like it (:

**Disclaimer – **I do not own House blah, blah, blah. I do not own any of the House characters blah, blah, blah.

**Summary – **Something's wrong with House and when he ends up in the hospital in an ironic twist, the team starts to realize how much they need him, for some, how much they want him. **HOUSE/CUDDY, HOUSE/CAMERON, CHASE/CAMERON/ FOREMAN/CAMERON.**

READ & REVIEW

**Chapter One – **

The walls of the hospital had seemed as they always did – quiet and bustling with patients of all kinds. The hypochondriacs lined the right sides of the infirmary, playing with their eyes and rubbing their rashes, crossing and uncrossing their legs and contemplating whether the cracking they heard was popping or the breaking of bones.

For Gregory House, however, everything seemed the same. The white walls, which had been repainted yesterday for the most random of reasons, and the room, had the distinct smell of bad breath, metal, and new coats of paint. His own limping he had been familiar with, which was why he flung around to see who had been following him when he heard steady ones from behind.

"Cuddy," he said, leaning on his cane. "I see you've managed to buy yet another low cut shirt from the local thrift store."

"House," Cuddy said, rolling her eyes and holding a file. She had a case to assign him, one that had been baffling the other doctors she had hired, the ones that seemed like nothing in comparison to the doctor House was. She smiled to herself thinking of his sarcastic humor, the way he walked, talked and everything in between.

"What?" House said, looking at her through a side-glance. "That's not a bad thing for me. Maybe to all those _other _doctors who've been looking down your shirt? I don't know, I'm a little worried about – "

Cameron stopped him. "I've got a case for you."

House groaned and cracked his neck before taking the file Cuddy had extended out to him. Opening it, House read the status. "Forty-two year old female, trouble with joint pain and complaining of headaches." House kept walking. "Give her an Aspirin," he said handing Cuddy back the file.

"House," Cuddy protested, "you can't just drop the case just like that. I mean, this could be serious," she said, even knowing herself that the woman was full of it. She had taken the duty of interviewing her herself, and she seemed like the normal excessively preoccupied patient.

"Cuddy," House said with the same practiced monotone voice. "This hospital is filled with thousands of people. Some are sick and some aren't sick. Some think they're sick and some just want to be sick."

The two of them continued to walk down the halls, stopping at the front desk. Dropping the file off nearby, Cuddy whispered to the nurse, afraid of House's bigot response he'd give her if he knew he was right, "Give her some Aspirin and send her home." Then, following House to the nearest elevator, she sighed, deciding whether or not she should ask him where he was going.

"House, where are you going?" she said, running fingers through her hair.

House raised an eyebrow. "I do have a hardy crew up there waiting for their king, their boss." House waited, raised an eyebrow. "Me." Cuddy stifled a laugh, not falling under House's witty remarks. The door of the elevator opened and House limped inside, Cuddy following after him.

Elevator music flooded the ears of the two of them, and House plugged the button of the second to last floor. They waited, and just when the elevator got only one floor up, it stopped again, the doors opening to reveal House's crew standing before them. Foreman, Cameron and Chase shoved into the elevator and the doors shut.

"Great," House said. "We have a party."

The room was a bit crowded, bit enough for at least one other person to lie down in, and Cameron, who was standing clearly uncomfortable between Cuddy and Chase, was the first to respond, her eyes avoiding the sullen looking Chase from only a week before she ended their "relationship" of random sex.

"Well I didn't think it would rain today," she said, trying to laugh. The room remained quiet, Foreman looking at Chase to see if he would somehow make a remark agreeing with her, but the room stayed quiet. The silence of breathing made the five of them aware and catlike.

From the right-hand corner of the elevator, the noise of higher floors rang, and suddenly, House's fast breathing. Cuddy tried to move her head around Foreman's to see what was wrong. House's twisted face gave her an answer, and quickly she tried to push past the other to get to him.

"House," she said. "Are you alright?"

Forman looked closer at House and House, whom it was obvious didn't like this sort of attention shook his head and blinked. "What?" he said. "I'm fine. What are you all looking at?"

"Your face," Chase said, finally speaking. "You're…pale."

Out of nowhere, an increasing pain in House's leg shot like lightning from his thigh to his foot, and he refrained from clutching it, but could not help from tightly closing his eyes. It was as if the world was spinning, or the elevator at least, and the faces of his coworkers turned into a faded blur.

Quickly reaching in his pocket with a shaking hand for his pills to stop the stimulating pain, he grabbed his Vicodin, but dropped it to the floor. Cameron rushed forward, putting her backwards hand to his forehead.

"House, you're hot," she said, a look of pure horror appearing on her face. House, looking skinner than he already was, tried to protest, squinting and trying to find his lost pills on the floor. "No, I'm fine. I just need to find my…"

The team of doctors looked from one another, unsure what they were supposed to do in a crowded elevator. House tried to distinguish them from one another, leaning against the walls of the elevator and dropping his cane to the floor with a crash. Sweating profusely, House opened his mouth, but his words only came out as a slur.

"House," Cameron said, not making out House's inaudible words.

Finally, the doors of the elevator opened, the team scrambled out facing House, their face stricken and worried. They looked at House, who now was the only one in the elevator, staggering to step out.

"Somebody get us a stretcher over here," Cuddy called, her stomach lurching just looking at a vulnerable House.

Cameron stepped forward to assist him, but House, who looked as if he might throw up on the floor in front of him, took his last step forward before falling straight, face first on the hard, tiled floor.

"House!"

**Candeh – **Chapter 2 should be up soon, folks**. Read and review** and the next chapter will be up faster ;)


	2. Chapter 2

**Candice – **I'm so glad all of you like the story so far. :) I'm going to try really hard to keep updating regularly. (Last night my dad came in my room and I exited out of my Word and he was like, "what are you doing on there, Candice?" and I'm like, "Nothing, dad," and so he made me open it and read it and called me weird. xD

**cakreut12: **Yay! I'm so glad you like my stories o Aren't House and Danny Phantom the best?

**1985laurie: **The ships will be minor except for Huddy. I love those two together. They make me squirm whenever I watch them on TV.

**Aly the Spy: **Yea, sorry about the mistakes. Weird because I tried extremely hard not to make any in this one. Ugh.

**Chapter Two – **

House rolled over and breathed. He was alive. Touching his face to reassure himself, he rolled over to find Cuddy sitting in a chair beside him, looking down in a magazine, looking worried and tired. Noticing him wake up, she stood on her feet and raced over to his bed, making House raise an eyebrow.

"Are you alright?" she said.

"I'm fine," House said, studying her. Through the glass windows of his room, House could see Cameron, Chase, Foreman and a fatigued looking Wilson peering in. He rolled his eyes as they all buried into the room, each holding a pen and paper.

"You just fainted?" Wilson said, running fingers through his hair. "Just fainted out of the blue?"

House rolled his eyes again and sighed. His team thinking himself to be venerable made his stomach lurch and his palms sweat. He closed his eyes and leaned back his head. "I was locking my knees," he said, matter-of-factly.

Wilson snorted. He knew his friend well and when he was lying and when he was telling the truth. Cuddy turned to him, knowing just as well what he was thinking. "Bull, House," Wilson said.

For a second, it registered in House's head about the expressions of his friends. Likewise, House knew them also and the way their faces showed agonizing terminology, he waited for them to say more. He tested them with his eyes and burned them into their pupils. When they all stayed quiet, waiting on him, he knew they had already given him a physical examination while he was passed out.

"You already gave me an exam," House said hoisting his brow. His eyes twinkled with frustration and his team cowered. Chase sunk.

"It was Cuddy's idea," he said.

"And mine," Wilson said.

Cuddy looked down and then back at House, "We checked your vital signs, got a cardiovascular exam, eye exam, head and neck exam…" She clicked her pen on. "All were…okay, if you ignore your little habit with pills."

House looked away from her stare and sat up in his bed, throwing off the covers.

"Where are you going?" Cameron said, calling after him.

"I have patients," House said, reaching for his cane, but Foreman caught it first.

"No," he said. "You have to lie down."

"And you had better give me my cane before you'll have to lie down yourself," House said with threatening demeanor. Foreman reluctantly handed House his cane and stepped back, out of the way of the maverick 'negotiator'. House rose to his feet, steadily, then fell back to his bed, in failure.

With his second attempt, he stood up wobbling, with Cuddy and Cameron's help. He felt dizzy and sitting back down again, put his hand on his head. "Can you get me some Vicodin?"

Cameron looked at Chase, "They took it."

"Yes," House said. "I know. Get me it back."

Cameron looked at Cuddy for help and her and Wilson stepped forward, "No drugs House." They both said. House took a long sigh and then turned and rose his morphine. Cuddy stepped forward again, grabbing his wrist.

"Stop it, House," she said, driving his hand away from the machine. House looked at her stunned for a second, and the rest of the clue, taking the hint to leave, turned and left the room. House and Cuddy fought over the machine, each having dropped the cane and clipboard in the process.

"No House," Cuddy said. "I feel like I'm training a freaking dog."

"Well go and get me my Vicodin," House said, still clutching the machine. Giving up, Cuddy released her grip on it, and sent House flying back a ways, knocking his head into another machine and a few wires.

A rush of guilt fled through her seeing the skinny man tangled in cords and she tried to refrain herself from rushing over to him. He struggled up and stood, then gave her a smirk as his finger landed on the arrow pointing up. With over twenty clicks, House rose his morphine and sat back down, feeling as though he had won.

"House," Cuddy said. "I think we should take an MRI. To be safe."

House opened his mouth to protest, but his speech was again blurred.

"Stop screwing around House. I get it," Cuddy said, walking towards the door. But House clutched his throat, his face getting pale and white and Cuddy, whose stomach had dropped a while ago, called for a nurse.

"House!" she said, coming to him. "House." When he didn't respond, she forced him on the tiled floor where, as carefully as she had ever been before, cut a two inch hole into House's neck.

His hand quivered on the cold floor and in a hesitant manner, Cuddy quickly placed hers over his, pinned it to the ground and called again for the delaying nurse. "Stay calm, House," she said, knowing perfectly well that she was the one that needed to remain calm, "Just stay calm. You're going to be fine. I'm here."


	3. Chapter 3

**Candeh – **Okay, so after taking stupid tests, I'm on and updating my House FF. (: I'm glad I am too, because there are no tests I could be studying for, and my high-school has minimum days this week.

**Chapter 3 – **

House picked at his food on the cafeteria plate with his fork, giggled the Jell-O with his long pointer finger and then stabbed it with his white, plastic spoon. He sighed, then leaned back in his chair, looking around him.

He was surrounded by sick people. Sick people and anxious people and visitors and staff members. People that he should not be around. He ran fingers through his hair, sighed again, and then, from the corner of his eye seeing Wilson come over to him, sat up straight.

"Close call back there," Wilson said.

"I wouldn't know," House said. Wilson raised an eyebrow. "Sarcasm," House said flatly, offering Wilson his macaroni and cheese side tray. Wilson shook his head and House put it down on his tray and watched it jiggle.

"You think you'll be alright here tonight?" Wilson asked, kicking the leg of a chair beside him.

"I have to stay here?" House asked, raising his voice and causing a few other heads to turn in their direction. Wilson cowered in his seat and glared back at House, hiding his face from the people who looked. "I passed out and I have to stay in a hospital overnight?"

Wilson snorted, "We had to cut a hole in your throat."

House leaned back in his chair again and rubbed his eyes.

"Are you tired?" Wilson said, suddenly on guard.

"No," House said quickly. "In fact, I feel fine enough to go home."

"You're not going home, House," Wilson said.

House crossed his arms. He picked at a nail and then threw it at Wilson aiming for his head. Wilson closed his eyes when it hit him on the forehead and then opened them again and started quickly.

"I'll be here early in the morning, but I might have a late night," he said.

"Why?" House said. He looked deep into his friend's stone face. "Your red face tells me that you're either doing something you don't want to tell me or you're doing something illegal."

Wilson didn't bother laughing. "Cuddy and I…" he started.

House rolled his eyes. From the inner core that made him up, Wilson could sense a trickle of something inside him that made him act different when he mentioned Cuddy's name. To check, Wilson said 'Cuddy' again, and House's focused off him.

"Cuddy and I," Wilson continued, "are going out to dinner."

"Fine," House said, a little unequivocally. He picked up his fork and stuffed the gruel down his throat and then looked back at Wilson with artic blue eyes. "Just tell me if she's any good in bed."

"People like food. Cuddy and I are people. I take it just because we're going out to dinner together doesn't mean…"

"Are you going somewhere fancy?"

"What do you mean 'fancy'?" Wilson said, concentrating on choosing his words carefully.

"Suit and tie, dress and high heels fancy," House said, already noting by the way Wilson moved his eyes that it was indeed that kind of fancy. He wanted to hear him say it however, so that he could audibly know he was right too.

"Yes, suit and tie, dress and high heel fancy," Wilson said, sighing. As Wilson got up to leave, he could feel House's eyes follow him out of the cafeteria. He moved and waited for him to follow, and when he didn't hear House's limping from behind him, he darted into Cuddy's office to arrange what time he should pick her up.

By seven, Wilson and Cuddy had made their way to the restaurant. They sat at a corner that showed the moon perfectly from the window, had exactly five small red roses between them, and violins playing behind them. Cuddy laughed.

"The food is delicious," she said, taking a bite of her spaghetti and twisted it around a non-plastic, sparkling silverware spoon. Wilson smiled, also starting into his food and taking a sip of his wine.

"It's better than the cafeteria, that's for sure," he said.

Cuddy smiled, and then sighed, "Is House upset that he's staying there overnight?"

Wilson thought about it, "Do you think House is upset?"

Cuddy laughed, "Are you kidding? He's probably throwing a fit and giving the nurse's a hard time." She nervously drank, thinking about the hole she had slit across his neck. She drowned the thought out by the sound of the strings and smiled again, showing straight white teeth.

The two of them were both worried about House in the hospital, and besides the fact that they had made plans for dinner before House had passed out, they had reluctantly, halfheartedly agreed that they should carry on with their plans, despite House. It had bothered them now as they sat here and thought about him, lying alone in the uncomfortable bed and listening to his own breathing, limping to get up to go to the bathroom, or falling and having to pick himself up.

"I mean," Cuddy said, "not that I don't think House can handle anything himself."

"Of course," Wilson said. "He's fine."

Cuddy finished her drink, looked down in the empty glass. She saw a waiter pass by and ordered another drink, and asked Wilson if he wanted a second one.

"No, thanks," Wilson said, showing her his glass. "I'm not barely done with the first one."

The waiter moved away and soon brought her the drink she had ordered and in one swallow, Cuddy drank it down and looked up at the waiter again. "On second thought, can I have like, three more drinks?"

The waiter stared at her for a while. He nodded and rushed away and Cuddy, who took no shame in what she had done looked back at Wilson who was laughing.

"Are you thirsty?" he said.

"Yea," Cuddy said, laughing. "And that is some really, _really_ good wine."

Wilson smiled, glad that Cuddy liked the food and the soothing atmosphere. He tried to compose his calm demeanor and flashed her his own ashen teeth.

"I'm sure it's nothing House," Cameron said, sitting on the edge of his head. House sat up straight and then, in a heaving motion, got up. He snatched his cane from the chair as if it were trying to take it from him, and limped to the other side of the bed.

"It _is _nothing. I don't know why I have to stay here," he said.

"Then why are you?" Cameron said, standing. "It's never stopped you before from doing anything."

House looked back at her, "I know, that's why I'm leaving."

"You can't leave," Cameron said, going to the door.

"Why not?" House said, giving her a cold look. He was tired and already had purple circles forming under his eyes.

"You don't have your clothes," Cameron said.

"What, did you burn them?" House said, trying to push past.

"They're at my house. I'm washing them," she said.

House raised his brow, "Okay…" he said.

"And you don't have a car," Cameron said.

"I drove to work," House said.

"And I took your keys from your pocket and drove your car home," Cameron said, keeping her face straight. It was true, that she had stolen his car and clothes, but her face kept cracking at how weird this sounded now, to be saying it, when she only intended to be sincere.

House sighed. "I'll walk."

"Then I'll have to take your cane," Cameron said. "And if you try and crawl…"

House snorted, successfully breaking past her.

"Look," Cameron called, staying where she was and watching House limp away. "If there is nothing wrong with you, it won't hurt you to stay here, for just one night. It's already eight thirty. Just stay here tonight."

House turned around, stared her in the eye.

"You don't think there's nothing wrong with me," he said, studying her.

She held his stare, "Please."

"I mean if House has a problem with us going out, then he should just say something," Cuddy said, obviously drunk by the time they had got back to Wilson's car. Wilson, who was perfect fine, had stayed quiet, until he heard her say the words 'going out'. He smiled to himself and kept driving.

"He's ridiculous," Cuddy continued, "He thinks he's invincible and…right. Well, most of the time he _is _right. But he's a pervert and a addict and, oh gosh is he addicted to drugs, am I right or what?"

Wilson laughed and nodded, "You are definitely right."

Cuddy leaned on him, placed his head on his shoulder when he stopped the car to her house. "Walk me up?"

Wilson got out of his car and the two of them walked up the stairs to her house. The porch light went on, and aside from a trickle of rain, it was a warm night. "Thank you," Cuddy said.

"It was fun," Wilson said, smiling.

They hugged, looked into each other's eyes for a moment and then Cuddy started laughing again, sinking her body into Wilson's. "I mean, how desperate is House, anyway? He's like _obsessed."_

Wilson forced a laugh and picked her drooping body up. He took the keys from her hands and let himself inside, carrying her in. "I'll just take you to your bed," Wilson said over Cuddy's rambling.

"He just thinks he's the freaking rule of the world, but he doesn't know shit," she spat. Wilson set her on the couch and then waited. Cuddy sat up, clutched her head from a sudden head rush and continued. "He's rude, skinny, offensive, a pill-popper, sarcastic, cute, irresistible. I love him."

Wilson looked up, "What?"

Cuddy laughed, slapped her head, "What did I just say? Did I just say I _loved _House?" She laughed harder and turned to Wilson, "I must be really drunk."


	4. Chapter 4

**Candeh – **I'm sad because I think I'm loosing reviewers (

**Aqua Mage – **House was choking, which was why Cuddy had to slice the hole in his throat. Sorry if that was unclear. xx

**Chapter 4 – **

"See?" Cameron said as she walked into the door on a particularly rainy day. "Staying at the hospital for one night wasn't so bad." She made her way over to House's bedside, a look of satisfaction on her face that she had convinced him to stay. However, House did not return her smile. He stared at her harshly and hardly in the eyes and made her look away.

"You knew," he simply said.

Her face went pale, "Knew what?"

"That I would have to stay here," House said.

"What are you talking about, House?" Cameron said accusingly, "You're _sick._ Of course I knew that you had to stay here. Better safe than sorry, right? And I definitely would want –"

"You knew," House continued, interrupting Cameron, "that I would have to stay here. Tonight."

Cameron flushed. It was true that she knew that House would have to stay longer than one night, and if she convinced him to stay here one night, alone, realize how sick he really was, than maybe he would get the point. Although guilt swept through her, Cameron broadly smiled. "It's not my fault you fell for it. Now," she said fully sitting on House's bed, "what happened last night?"

House reluctantly spoke, leaning his head far back on the pillow. He moved, made himself more comfortable and watched Cameron eagerly take out a pen and paper. Letting out a temperamental sigh, House spoke.

"Pains," he said, "in my arms, knees, legs. Headaches. Cramps and temporary paralysis." Cameron turned paler.

"You're paralyzed?"

House gave her a cross glare, "I said temporary."

"Oh," Cameron said, writing down the word, "Right."

"Anything else?"

"Nightmares, hallucinations…I think this is a job for my handy-dandy Vicodin."

Cameron glared, "Yea, right after we smuggle them past the handy-dandy Cuddy." House snorted and Cameron, for a second pleased at her remark, exhaled.

"Your hands are misleading," House said, turning to the window.

"Excuse me?"

"Dandy. Adjective. Meaning 'very good, excellent, or in some situations…_cool._"

"My hands never told you that they would go get your Vicodin," Cameron said. "And neither did I." She started to walk away, but quickly added, "Or Chase. Or Foreman. Or Cuddy. Or Wilson. Or…"

House raised an eyebrow.

"Or…any of _their _handy-dandy hands," Cameron spun on her heel, silently reading the clipboard on House's symptoms, underlining the word 'temporary' exactly three times in a bright, green marker.

- - - - - -

Wilson, Cameron, Chase, Foreman and a hesitant Cuddy came into House's room; their shoes echoing their footsteps. _Heel toe, heel toe._ House looked up, let out a long impatient sigh, "What – dare I ask?"

"We need to give you a shot," Chase said, handing Foreman the needle.

"Why?" House said, flatly.

"It's just morphine," Cuddy said, clearly with a headache from her hangover. "Don't be a freaking baby, House."

"You're deciding to inject it?" House said. "I have the controller right…" He looked to his left; the controller to the morphine box had been covered with a seal.

"This way we can control how much you take, House," Wilson said with a jab of hatred in House's direction. What Cuddy had said had haunted his dreams, made him churn and tumble under his covers. It had kept him up when he woke up and made him thirsty when he drank.

House shrank, surprised at his friend's sudden jeer, but quickly recovered. He extended a hand, "Give me the needle," he said, leaning towards Foreman.

"It only has to be ¾ of what's in here," he said, driving the needle away.

"I promise," House said with a pleading tone, "I'll only give me the right amount."

"Yea," Foreman said, "Sit still."

House growled.

Foreman stepped forward, and quickly, sharply stuck the needle into House's right arm where he stood. He looked at Chase for only a second, when House grabbed the shot out of Foreman's loose enough grasp and plunged the rest of the morphine into his arm. When it was done, and Foreman and the rest of them had realized, House threw the needle on the floor and waited patiently for the pain to go away.

They all stood patiently, amazed at what House had just done. Cuddy, in her bright red heels strode over to him, throwing his blankets off in a heated rage. In a second, Wilson was satisfied with the angry tone she was giving him, and then stood, worried, yet stone faced.

"House!" Cuddy said, still clutching her head. "I can't believe – actually, you know what, I can. This is so like you! Holy crap, House! Why can't you let the other doctors do their job for once in your life? - "

House opened his mouth to speak – but stopped, looking with his eyes at his hands. "I can't move my hands."

"What?" Cuddy said, her yelling ceased and her face turning pure white. Her stomach flipped ad her guts churned and she and the other did their best to stay calm.

"I can't move my hands," House said, "or my legs."

"Can you move anything?" Chase said, coming towards him beside Cuddy.

"No, I – " House started to say, but the pain overtook him, spiraling up and down his nerves and muscles. He lay, perfectly still, on his bed, letting out exasperated breaths and screams of ache.

"Stay still, House," Wilson said and House gave him a sharp glower from the corner of his eye and continued to scream, penetrating the ears of panicking Cameron, Chase, Foreman, Wilson and Cuddy.

"House," Chase said, noticing House's blue eyes turning dim. "House." He turned around, his heart pounding, facing the terror-stricken others, "He's hallucinating."


	5. Chapter 5

**Candeh – **Chapter Five. Sorry it took so long. Blame it on school, blame it all on school.

**Chapter 5- **

House could feel the world spinning; the breath he could usually grasp so easily was slipping away. He spun his head around, wagged his doggy hair for some kind of condolence, but before he knew it, Cuddy, Cameron, Chase, Foreman and Wilson all turned black. Then went the rest of the room.

Soon, House found himself standing in front of a large audience, the whole medical unit crowded in one particular room. He gaped before them, wondering what he was supposed to say, and they raised their eyebrows in his direction only wondering when he would begin.

From the corner of his right, sparkling arctic eye, House could see Cuddy motioning to him, whispering from behind the curtains. He knew that he was in the hospital still, just unaware of what he was supposed to do, or say.

"Talk," Cuddy said looking nervous. He made hand signals with her hands and gave him a look of pure worry, and when House stuttered for words, Cuddy rushed to the stage, moving his gently aside.

"This is Dr. House, as some of you already know," she said, smiling. "One of the greatest doctors of all time," she said, looking House in the eyes. House looked at her with pleading eyes, but she didn't not see it.

"Feel free to ask away," Cuddy said, laughing nervously. The room clapped and slowly Cuddy clip-clopped off the stage giving House the 'thumbs-up' from behind the curtain once more. House faced the crowd, loosening his tie.

"Um," he said, stalling, looking around for papers that might give him some kind of clue to what he was supposed to say. "I'm Dr. House." He paused. "…Any questions?" he laughed nervously, looking at Cuddy who nodded, as if this was what he was supposed to do.

_Adoring fans and Cuddy likes me, _House thought to himself with satisfaction, _this isn't that bad for a hallucination. _

"Yes," said a tall, overweight standing up and holding a pen, "I'm Linda Brooks. I'd like to ask you how it feels to be soaked in a bucket of ice."

"Oh," House said, "You see, when a patient gets too hot, as in a fever, we think that it's best to put them in a _cold_ environment," House sarcastically implied, "You see that way it gets their _high_ temperature _low_."

The blonde raised an eyebrow, her under neck forming a double chin from cocking her head back too far. House had the sudden impulse to say something, but refrained from it.

"I wasn't talking about the patient, Doctor House," she said, snorting triumphantly.

"Oh," House said, a little taken back. "Sorry, I thought –"

The blonde laughed, only to be joined by the entire room. Confused, House stood on the stage, overlooking hundreds of howling doctors, nurses and patients; some even pulled from their hospital beds. He looked at Cuddy, who was also laughing wildly, and Wilson, Chase, Cameron and Foreman joined in.

Tensely, stood, until the laughter died and the blonde spoke again.

"Isn't it true, Doctor House," she said resembling the other faces, "That you were put in a tub full of ice?"

House felt his knees lock, "W-what?"

"So it is true?" she mocked, her smiling still painted on.

House gazed, his eyes falling on the crowd, who all looked up at him, smiling and some still chuckling. He turned to Wilson who smiled along with the others, Foreman particularly snickering.

"I have to be hallucinating," he said out loud.

"Oh, no, House," said the blonde. "It's all too real."

- - -

House lay, shaking on the bed, clutching hard onto the bed handles. Cuddy quickly rushed to get a wet towel and placed it on his head. Then, turning to the gawking nurses, snapped, "He's in pain! Make yourself useful!"

The nurses fret, squirmed, bounced in opposite directions and left the room.

"Cuddy," Foreman said, "He doesn't need any more morphine."

Cuddy pushed him off. "I'm not getting him morphine," she said making her way out the door. "Wilson," she said turning to him sharply.

Wilson perked. The sound of Cuddy saying his name made his frown for House disappear. His hands, which were sweaty from seeing House suffer, dropped to his sides like he was in the army.

House moaned, gripped on his covers and subliminally pulled them up over his head. From under them, however, Cameron and the rest of them cringed as they could hear his groans and muttering. "No, I-" he said.

"Wilson," Cuddy said, closing her eyes, wishing she could shut out the sounds of House's almost unclear words, "Where did you hide his Vicodin?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Candeh – **Chapter Five was too short and it took me forever to update. Sorry /

**Batman'sBeauty18: **Yup. ): If you didn't see it in an episode, House confessed that his father used to abuse him to a raped patient. It left me very, very confused because it was oh so sad and oh so hot at the very same time. Hmm.

**Chapter 6 – **

Foreman, Wilson, Cameron and Cuddy spread out across the room. Cuddy picked up a piece of unwrapped trash with remains of 'Hot Pocket' crumbs lining the interior. She winced, put it down and turn to the rest of them. "There's trash in here, and drugs, of course, but nothing in here that could potentially cause…"

"Right," Foreman said, helping her out with a simple gesture. He picked up the blanket that was thrown on the couch, inspected it within two seconds, and then threw it back down on the couch. "I don't know about you, but I'm done here."

Chase sighed, "Foreman's right. There's nothing here."

Cuddy got up, rushed over to the door, "You're giving up just because there's stuff infected in here that you can't see with your eyes?"

Cameron sighed," Trust me," she said with deep expression, "If I truly thought there was something in here that caused House to be like he is, I would stay here. But there isn't anything."

Cuddy closed her eyes, not wanting to hear that it could be something they couldn't fix, something they wouldn't ever be able to find. She shivered and moved aside, all of them exiting House's room and Cuddy closing the door with a sharp clasp.

- - - - -

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

"You can't go _out._"

"Yes. I can. Watch."

House put on a loose blue zip-up jacket and limped towards the door. Cuddy, surprising herself, stepped aside. "Where are you going at one in the morning? You have to stay in bed."

House raised an eyebrow.

Cuddy sighed, knowing that technically, House could leave whenever he wanted. At the moment, he seemed fine. He wasn't underneath his covers moaning, or choking or fainting. Other than that, he just seemed tired.

"So move aside," House said stepping past her. He opened the door with his cane and made his way slowly down the long hall and out of the doors of the hospital. Cuddy, hesitant to follow him, found herself outside in the dark, now rushing after House.

"Where are you going?" she said.

"I can't go home," House said. "I know that. But I am not spending the night in there tonight. That room. Ever think of re-painting? It reminds me of this one hooker's place I-"

"Fine," Cuddy said, "Sleep on a bench, I don't care."

"You don't?" House said, stopping.

"No," Cuddy said, facing him.

House kept walking and Cuddy continued. "So then why are you following me?"

"Because I want to see where you're going to sleep."

"Want to run back to the hospital and get me a pillow?"

"No."

House grumbled, "Fine."

The two of them walked down the path leading to the hospital, followed it down the parking lot and exited. Cuddy, looking a little out of place and worried and House, completely concentrated on getting rest, stopped at a bench in the park and lay down in the grass by it.

"This is it?" Cuddy said.

House opened one eye, annoying. "This is what?"

"Your bed?"

"This is most definitely it."

For a while, Cuddy stood there, and then House closed his eyes again. Taking a long, deep breath, House turned over on his side, only opening his eyes slightly to zip his jacket up further. Then, turning around to his other side within a matter of minutes, he heard someone else's breathing hovering above him.

He opened an eye, and glanced up to Cuddy who was sitting on the bench, staring, a sick smile spread across her face like she had been laughing.

"Comfortable?"

"You're still here?"

Cuddy sighed, "You should go back to your bed," she said, picking at one of her nails and then quickly resorting to biting it. "It's freezing out here. That old jacket that you had since…I don't know when, can't possibly keep you warm."

House took off the jacket, throwing it on the ground beside him and bundled it up into a pillow. Shivering, Cuddy looked at him and stepped off the bench crouching down next to him. "I think you have a fever."

House moaned, "That's fantastic."

"No, House," Cuddy said, "You should go back to the room so I can take your temperature."

"I'm. Fine," House said, sitting up and looking her in the eye. "Look." He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a container of Vicodin and threw two in his mouth. Cuddy stood up, rolling her eyes, a bit embarrassed that she had resorted to giving him back his pills. House noticed her humiliation and took another pill and gave her a wide smile.

Cuddy sighed again, and House lie down, resting his head back on his jacket/pillow. When he could sense that she was still standing there, he let out a gasp of air, and talked keeping his eyes shut.

"So you went on a date with Wilson?" he said.

"What?" Cuddy said, a bit jumpy. "Oh, yea."

"How is he?" House said.

"Oh House, it was dinner," Cuddy said, still standing, hoping that her position would make House worry that she would leave him alone here soon. It was silent for a while, and House, wondering if she was still lurking, asked.

"Are you still lurking?"

"Yes."

House sat up.

"Where are you going now?"

He grabbed his jacket and walked towards the bench, "To the bench." Lying down, House kept his eyes open this time and turned towards Cuddy, "You're going to watch me sleep?"

"Yes," Cuddy said, "So fall asleep fast so I can murder you."

Cuddy turned away for a moment, and looked out at the sky. She felt a chill go down her spine as the cool air swept around her, and she breathed in crisp. What seemed like two minutes turned into a half an hour and Cuddy soon found herself sitting next to a sleeping House.

She looked at him for a long time; his steady breathing and his rising and falling chest. Slowly, she moved to the seat of the bench and carefully placed a hand on his forehead. Quickly, she shook him.

"House," she said, "House."

House opened his eyes, stirred and then stood straight up. "Turn the sun off."

"House, it's dark out and you're burning up," she said.

Breathing fast, House staggered off the bench, and fell into the arms of Cuddy, who barely caught him in time. She heaved his frail body and looked towards the hospital. Seeing that it was a while away, she looked to her left, saw a pond in the park only a few feet from where they were, and marched towards it.

She set him down by the edge and then frantically emerged herself in the water, splashing as much as she could on his face. He lie down on the grass, closing his eyes and tried his best to count down from one hundred until all he could see was black and hear Cuddy's hopeless panting.


End file.
